


C is for Control

by nastally



Series: The BDSM Alphabet [3]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Freddie Mercury, Bottom Roger Taylor (Queen), Boyfriends, Bubble Bath, Butt Plugs, Cock Rings, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Gift Fic, Light BDSM, M/M, Naked Cuddling, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Power Dynamics, Rimming, Sex Toys, Switching, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Top Freddie Mercury, Top Roger Taylor (Queen)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:13:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27160967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nastally/pseuds/nastally
Summary: "I suppose I should ask whatyou'rein the mood for," Freddie murmured huskily, his gaze intrigued as he put the lube and the toys down on the nightstand. Roger sat up and reached for him when he sat down the bed. One hand on the edge of Freddie's jaw, one on his waist, he leaned in and captured Freddie's mouth in a brief but passionate kiss that left them both wanting more. He was not a man of many plans, but of ideas and impulse. And Freddie was not wrong. Roger had just realised that he knew exactly what he wanted to do.
Relationships: Freddie Mercury/Roger Taylor
Series: The BDSM Alphabet [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1746349
Comments: 49
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tikini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tikini/gifts).



> Welcome to another edition of... nastally can't finish fic on time! 😂
> 
> (To be fair, just like my gift for Plainxte, this one _also_ developed a life of its own and decided to be twice as long as I'd planned. Whoops!)
> 
> Happy Birthday, my dear Tikini! 🎂🎉 Please accept part one of your birthday gift! 🎁
> 
> Once upon a time, I read one of your stories and in the author's notes it said "I have a fingering fetish the size of the moon" 😂🌕 After I was done laughing, I thought to myself, damn, I want to be friends with this lady. She seems like a hoot! And I wasn't wrong. 🤗💕 I hope this contributes to a wonderful birthday for you. FYI, I set out to write you hot smut, oh Queen of poly smut, but it turned into a prelude of _pure fluff_ because, I guess, all I can think about when I think of you is _pure love_! ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> I hope everyone else enjoys it, too! The tags for the next chapter are already added so you can opt out of this story if any of that is not your jam. 🙂

_1975, early February, somewhere in America..._

\- - -

"Blimey! Get in here!"

Freddie genuinely couldn't tell if the exclamation from the hotel bathroom had been one of horror or excitement. For a second, he was almost certain Roger must have found it crawling with cockroaches and the very thought momentarily arrested his breath in his throat. Although that was absurd, Freddie immediately told himself, because Roger would have known better than to call him into the room if that were the case. Besides, this seemed like a very nice hotel. 

Curiosity winning out - and the chance of cockroaches being considerably low - Freddie walked over to the door. 

When he peeked inside, his face split into a grin, matching Roger's. 

"Yes!" he beamed, looking from the enormous, triangular jacuzzi tub to Roger, who was standing there with his hands on his hips, looking as pleased as though he'd installed it with his own bare hands. 

"This is the life, Roger!" Freddie gave a delighted laugh and returned to the room to take off his shoes and make himself comfortable. "I love America." He shook out his hair and crossed over to the large double bed, where he performed a sort of half pirouette and threw himself down onto his back, arms stretched out wide. It was wonderfully soft. Freddie sighed contentedly, feeling himself sink into the mattress as Roger walked back into the room. 

"Take off my shoes." 

Freddie gracefully lifted one leg up into the air, catching Roger's eye. The drummer snorted, came closer and grabbed his ankle, eyeing his foot as Freddie circled it playfully.

"Who am I, your manservant?" Roger asked, but smiled fondly nonetheless when Freddie batted his eyelashes at him. 

"Be a dear." 

Roger obliged, pulling off one platform shoe and dropping it to the floor while he dug his thumb into the arch of the foot, rubbing back and forth. Freddie groaned. 

"Oh, that's lovely…" He was about to request a proper foot rub when Roger leaned in and gave his sock a sniff, pulling away with a grimace. 

"Stop it." With a giggle and a tut, Freddie yanked his foot free and poked Roger in the ribs with his toes, making him squirm. Freddie dropped his leg and lifted the other. Roger caught it. 

"I'll rub your feet in the bath," he promised, taking off Freddie's other shoe with an eyebrow waggle. "Fancy a bath?" 

" _Always_ ," Freddie said emphatically and quirked an eyebrow at him in return. "Do you mean together?" 

Roger hummed in confirmation. Still holding on to the ankle, he pushed Freddie's leg forward and away from himself until Freddie let out a soft 'ah'. It was a nice stretch, all along his hamstring. Roger stepped forward until his knees hit the edge of the bed, deepening the stretch just a little more. Freddie hummed. 

"Nice?" 

"Yes..." 

Without a word, Roger carefully lowered his leg and tapped the opposite thigh lightly. Sliding his arms up above his head on the bed, Freddie lifted his other leg back up and sighed into the stretch when Roger repeated the procedure on the other side. 

Roger clucked his tongue, shaking his head a little. "I'd snap something if you did that to me."

Freddie chuckled. It filled his chest with warmth through and through, the way Roger _enjoyed_ him. The way it wasn't purely sexual. There was something in the way Roger loved to touch him, manipulate him, coaxe reactions from him. Freddie adored it more than words could say. 

The next moment, Roger's smile widened into a cheeky grin as he moved Freddie's leg out to the side, and knelt up on the edge of the bed. Freddie gave another quiet chortle and bent his leg, hooking it around Roger's waist when the other man lowered himself on top of him slowly. Bracing himself on his elbows on either side of him, Roger leaned down and pressed soft, lingering kisses to his lips, his cheek, his jaw. 

"I'm disgusting..." Freddie's protest was very half-hearted as he wrapped his arms around him, conscious of the dried sweat on his skin when Roger moved on to his neck, yet simultaneously wanting him closer. 

" _Filthy_ ," Roger uttered in that rasp of his, licking a stripe up his neck to his ear. Freddie exhaled with a shudder, eyes falling shut, fingers digging into Roger's back. 

How easily he was won. 

He ought to have been ashamed, because Roger knew his power and wasn't afraid to use it, but never had Freddie minded being a helpless, whimpering mess less than when he was in Roger's arms. He turned his head towards Roger's, nudging him away from his neck. Demanding to be kissed. His silent plea was met with warm lips that sealed his mouth and Roger's slick, hot tongue sliding against his. Freddie felt himself sink deeper into the sheets as Roger grabbed on to each of his shoulders and trapped him underneath himself, the kiss deep and slow, his hips pressing forward against the growing bulge in Freddie's trousers. It had Freddie pushing right back into him immediately, into that little bit of friction, while Roger kissed him like he meant business, making his body tingle all over and his head spin. 

When Roger pulled away, lifting himself back up a little, Freddie blinked his eyes open again, flushed and slightly short of breath. 

"Bath?" Roger asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Oh." He'd forgotten all about the bath. "Yes…" Roger had a point though. It was probably an idea to get clean first. 

The loss of the other man's weight and warmth on top of him was only acceptable because it would soon be replaced with the relaxing, scented heaven of a bubbling jacuzzi. 

"Will you run it?" Reluctant to get up, Freddie stretched out his back, watching Roger disappear into the bathroom. 

"Of course."

"I want bubbles!" Freddie called belatedly and smiled when the reply came over the sound of running water. 

"Already on it!" 

\- - - 

Roger loved touring. Truly, apart from playing live in front of an audience, he loved nothing more than touring. There was something about entering freshly made up rooms and being able to leave them behind untidy, not giving a damn because that wasn't his responsibility. It was the lack of _clutter_ , of which there was always much at home, and the sense of liberation that came with it. The new impressions and views every day, a new local speciality to try, a new bar to drink in. Variety, as they said, was the spice of life. And never did he feel as though he was living his life so fully as when he was on tour. 

Of course, touring wasn't always a walk in the park, but the joys of it much outweighed the downsides for Roger. So much so that his unwavering enjoyment had caused a fair bit of tension between him and Freddie, in the beginning. 

Because it wasn't quite the same, for Freddie. 

The singer struggled with the lack of familiarity where Roger found it a nice change of pace. Freddie couldn't get comfortable as easily on a different pillow every night, he became restless and uncomfortable on long journeys, he missed the cats, and he was quickly frustrated when things didn't go to plan. Which was often enough. And that was not taking into account how much he fretted about his voice - which unfortunately hadn't been doing great lately - and what the press were making of him. Although the latter upset Roger just as much, on Freddie's behalf. (Being their frontman, he was inevitably the focus of any critique, and there was always plenty.) 

It had taken Roger a while to figure out that simply trying to sweep Freddie up in his own good spirits on tour and to keep pointing out how brilliant all of this was, really, at the end of the day - as if there was something wrong with Freddie for not acknowledging it at times - ultimately only lead to upset. By now he'd learned that he was much better off looking after Freddie a bit more than usual, which resulted in a more contented Freddie and less stress for himself. It was a win-win, really. Roger liked taking care of Freddie. It was nice to feel needed. And there was something quite primal about it; providing and being a strong shoulder to lean on. It pleased him on a visceral level. 

And so, to see Freddie so perfectly content tonight, reclining across from him in the jacuzzi with his eyes half-closed and a glass of champagne in his hand, was a delight. Roger couldn't help but smile as he finished massaging one of Freddie's feet under the water, carefully elongating each toe. Even though he was usually quite ticklish, Freddie was so relaxed he barely even flinched. Roger gave his foot a last gentle squeeze between his hands, running his fingers up to his ankle before he released it. 

"Thank you, darling." Freddie sighed contentedly and took a sip from his glass. "What?" he asked, eyes glimmering underneath his thick lashes as he slowly broke into an answering smile. 

"Nothing." Roger shook his head, leaning back against the tub and sinking down into it to his shoulders. "You look happy." 

"Do I." Freddie's smile widened into an unguarded, toothy grin. He looked extremely handsome like this, Roger thought, hair wet and slicked back, damp strands curling slightly around his face. "I _am_ happy." He took another sip from his glass and gestured with it at the foamy water they were submerged in. "There's bubbles all around. On my tongue." This was followed up with another small sip. Freddie waggled his eyebrows. "Under my bum."

Roger chuckled. The jacuzzi jets were actually very relaxing, he had to admit. He was starting to feel a bit like he was dissolving into the blissfully warm water himself. 

Not taking his half-hooded gaze off him, Freddie leisurely finished the last bit of champagne and put his glass aside. Then he curled his finger in a 'come hither' motion, his lips curled into a smirk over his teeth. Roger sat up and crossed the distance between them, slowly moving through the water, while Freddie pulled himself up a little. 

"Turn around, lovie," he said quietly, and wrapped both arms around him when Roger obliged, letting himself be pulled against Freddie. A bit of water splashed out of the tub and Roger gave a relaxed chuckle, dropping his head back onto Freddie’s shoulder. Embracing him tightly from behind, Freddie nuzzled against his damp hair and pulled his legs up on either side of him, squeezing him with both his arms and his thighs. A happy grin on his face, Roger closed his eyes for a moment and enjoyed the full-body hug, holding on to Freddie’s arms around his middle. "I love you," Freddie whispered against the side of his head and loosened his firm grip slightly. But not so much so that Roger might get any ideas about pulling away from him.

"I love you, too." Roger rolled his head towards him, his forehead resting against the side of Freddie’s neck.

\- - - 

"Do you promise?" 

He couldn’t help but ask. Every time. Because there was always that hint of dread lurking at the back of his mind when everything was this lovely. How could it possibly last? How could it be that this wasn’t the calm before the storm? How was he _allowed_ such happiness? 

"I promise." 

Freddie’s heart gave a little leap and he pressed a kiss to Roger’s forehead, feeling for his hand and entwining their fingers. Roger squeezed his hand back and gave a throaty hum, shifting a little on top of him, the movement weightless and smooth in the water. Another hum followed after a moment, and this time it sounded somewhat intrigued. Roger wiggled his hips, his lower back flush against Freddie’s crotch. 

Breaking into a small grin, Freddie peered down at Roger’s long lashes, fanning out beautifully over his cheeks from this angle, and the smirk on his lips. Releasing Roger's hand, he ran his fingers up and down Roger’s side, a featherlight touch, and his boyfriend's lips parted with a sigh. Pressing another kiss to Roger’s forehead, Freddie let one hand slide across his middle. 

Oh, but Roger was lovely like this. Completely at ease in his arms. With an appreciative little sound, Freddie pressed his fingertips into Roger’s smooth stomach. Even though Roger was a skinny bastard without ever having wasted a thought on what or how much he ate - something Freddie was a bit jealous of - there was a softness about him. From the roundness of his shoulders to his boyish face and the tiny bit of tummy, it was as though Roger was made for him to cuddle up to. And Freddie adored that. 

He spread his fingers wide across Roger’s stomach and dug his fingertips into that softness a bit more firmly. 

"Stop it." Roger gave a breathy chortle, tensing his abdominal muscles, and Freddie moved his hand down to his hip instead. That was lovely, too. There wasn’t a part of Roger he didn’t enjoy touching.

What he was also very much enjoying, was the way Roger was currently moving his hips side to side ever so slightly, rubbing himself against Freddie's cock, which was quickly taking an interest.

"I do hope you're planning to finish what you're starting here," Freddie uttered in a half whisper. 

"Course. I like to finish..." Roger replied with an exaggerated, sultry growl, "with a bang."

Freddie huffed out a laugh, absently stroking the top of Roger’s thigh. "Good thing you’re a great shag, with jokes like that." 

Roger chuckled, a pleasant vibration against Freddie’s body. "Am I ruining my chances?" 

Freddie hummed, biting back a smirk, and trailed his fingers along the crease of Roger’s thigh. "Good thing I know how to shut you up." 

He bucked his hips up against Roger, inching his fingers closer, but held out just a tad longer, aware of the way the other man had stilled in anticipation. Just waiting to be touched. Quite unhurriedly, Freddie changed direction and raked his nails over Roger’s inner thigh instead.  
Roger’s breathing grew deeper, Freddie could feel the flow of air against his clavicle. A part of him wanted to keep teasing, but he also really wanted to touch and neither patience nor self-control were his strong suit. Roger produced a delightful sound when Freddie wrapped his fingers around his cock, feeling it pulse and grow harder in his hand as he tightened his grip and gave a tug upward.

"What’re you…" Roger paused as Freddie turned his attention to the head of his cock. "Ah… What’re you in the mood for?" His voice was breathy, darker. Freddie shivered pleasantly and licked his lips, releasing his grip to run his fingers up and down along the underside of Roger’s cock instead. He understood the question, of course. They were most definitely going to have sex. But there was sex and then there was _sex_ , and the sorts of things they’d been getting up to ever since Amsterdam. Freddie hummed thoughtfully. What _was_ he in the mood for? Perhaps it was all this relaxation, but Roger was oh so pliable in his arms right now and much as Freddie loved to be manhandled a little, he was also quite enjoying this mellow side of Roger. 

"I don’t know…" His hand made its way down to the other man’s balls for a playful caress. What he _did_ want right now was to keep touching, to delight in how good he could make him feel. Because Roger had been an absolute angel all day, and all Freddie wanted to do was take care of him in turn. The way only he could. "I want to make love to you." The words had slipped out almost of their own accord, Freddie’s voice barely a whisper and filled with such genuine emotion that it made him feel vulnerable, verging on embarrassed. He was almost certain Roger might coo playfully or chuckle at such a soppy turn of phrase, and Freddie would laugh it off, too.

But Roger didn’t laugh. Instead, he pulled out of the embrace and sat up. Freddie watched him, his breath sticking in his throat, caught in uncertainty, and only released when Roger turned to face him. Because even though he was smiling, the look on his face was anything but amusement or derision. His heavy-lidded eyes were full of warmth and wonder, as though he was beholding something utterly unique and precious. Turning himself around fully, Roger moved in close again and Freddie placed a hand on his waist, guiding him back onto his lap. 

"You…" Roger slid his arms around his shoulders and Freddie tilted his chin, bringing them almost nose to nose. "You’re right," Roger murmured, his breath warm against Freddie’s lips. "You do know how to shut me up." His smile widened a little. "You leave me speechless." 

They moved to claim each other’s lips as one, melting into a kiss that quickly went from sweet to passionately insatiable. Running his fingers up Roger’s back and down his sides, then lower still, Freddie squeezed his backside with both hands and pulled him just a little closer. Roger exhaled sharply against his lips and proceeded to swallow the soft, breathy noise of approval Freddie made when their cocks brushed against each other, the contact light and tantalising in the water. Rocking his hips forward into that torturous hint of friction, Roger sucked Freddie’s bottom lip into his mouth, his fingertips stroking along the back of Freddie’s neck and leaving electric shivers in their wake. Freddie attacked his mouth with fierce longing in turn, kneading the muscle of Roger’s buttocks. His hips bucked into the tantalising contact between them and he whimpered, licking deeper into Roger’s mouth, the feeling of the other man’s hard cock sliding against his own in the water criminally pleasurable for how light it was.

When they pulled apart they were both panting, and Roger was so gorgeous with his wantonly parted lips, kissed raw, wet strands of hair falling into his face as he gazed at him from beneath his lashes that Freddie wished he'd had his camera to hand. Or better yet, a canvas and paint, even though he had no hope of doing reality justice.

"If we don’t get out now we’re not gonna make it to the bed," Roger smirked, raking his teeth over his bottom lip, a tiny movement that had Freddie staring.

"...Yes." He swallowed, reluctantly releasing his hold on Roger’s excellent, pert bottom. Roger leaned down to peck him on the lips one last time before he pulled himself up and climbed out of the bath. His cock bounced enticingly right in Freddie’s eyeline as he reached for one of the fluffy towels hanging up beside the jacuzzi. 

"Come on then," Roger grinned, stretching out his free hand, and Freddie took it, returning the grin as he’d been caught devouring him with his eyes. Roger pulled him to his feet and draped the towel he was holding around Freddie’s shoulders, drawing him cose for another kiss before he grabbed a towel for himself.

\- - - 

The first to throw himself onto the bed naked, Roger rolled over and switched on one of the bedside lamps while Freddie flicked off the main lights. However, he didn't come to bed straight away. Roger stretched out, arms folded behind his head, and watched Freddie, towel around his hips, as he dug through their suitcase for the bag which contained lube and a couple of toys they'd acquired. (And hadn't that been a tense affair, walking through customs and praying that no one was going to check their luggage for all to see.) 

"Fred." 

"Hm? Oh, there it is," Freddie murmured under his breath, and glanced up. "I've got it." 

"Bring the plug as well, yeah?" 

There was a flutter of excitement in Roger's stomach even as he said it, that sense of naughtiness and anticipation. It was mirrored in Freddie's eyes when he looked back up at him with a grin. "Anything else?" 

"Up to you," Roger said and immediately changed his mind, adding in a playfully conversational tone, as though he was asking Freddie to fetch his slippers. "Actually, do get the cock ring too while you're at it." 

Freddie gave an impish sort of chuckle. "Yes, sir." The reply was playful, however his voice was dark and breathy and sent a shiver through Roger that made his skin prickle all over. 

"Much obliged." He swallowed, following Freddie with his eyes when he got to his feet and walked over to the bed. 

"I suppose I should ask what _you're_ in the mood for," Freddie murmured huskily, his gaze intrigued as he put the lube and the toys down on the nightstand. Roger sat up and reached for him when he sat down the bed. One hand on the edge of Freddie's jaw, one on his waist, he leaned in and captured Freddie's mouth in a brief but passionate kiss that left them both wanting more. He was not a man of many plans, but of ideas and impulse. And Freddie was not wrong. Roger had just realised that he knew exactly what he wanted to do. 

"Want you to make love to me," he whispered, pulling away with a small smirk, just enough to catch each other's eye. Freddie exhaled audibly as Roger's fingers slid away from his jaw and dropped to the edge of the towel, where it was secured around Freddie's hips. With one smooth tug, Roger pulled it open and wrapped his fingers around Freddie's cock, their faces so close they could feel each other's breath. "You wanna fuck me?"

Freddie made a soft, throaty noise and Roger adored the way his boyfriend's half-hard cock twitched in his hand.

"That can be arranged."

\- - -


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't written smut in such a long time I legit wrote all of this peering through my fingers and giggling like 😳🙈😂
> 
> May I gift you, dear Tiki (and everyone else), this filthy, filthy porn. May you enjoy it. It was written with love. 😜💕
> 
> I'm sorry for any typos, no betas were involved in the making of this story.

\- - - 

"That can be arranged." 

Freddie was quite pleased with himself for sounding so suave, considering the surge of excitement that shot through him. His mind was quickly dissolving into a haze of animalistic need - Roger's hand on his cock, his imagination running wild with the fantasy Roger's question had evoked. As though drawn in by pure magnetism, he closed the distance between them and pulled Roger close by the back of his neck, crashing their lips together. The very air around them seemed to have filled with static electricity, raising the small hairs on his body. Roger kissed him back just as fiercely and the towel slid to the floor when Freddie moved to climb up onto the bed, straddling his boyfriend as he pushed him down onto his back. Roger's arms enveloped him, hands roaming his body, grabbing and squeezing possessively. Hips, thighs, up to his shoulders and back down to his arse. 

Freddie broke the kiss with a low, guttural sound and dragged his lips across Roger's jaw, drawing a moan from him when he found his throat with tongue and teeth. Roger's fingers tangled in his hair, their grip firm, tugging at the roots. Freddie breathed a throaty moan in turn when his head was pulled to one side, holding him there. Roger sucked the tender skin at the side of his neck into his mouth, sure to leave a mark, and Freddie's eyes fell shut. 

"Ahh-" He rocked himself back and forth on top of Roger's cock, which was already hard beneath him and rubbing up against his taint and balls, which only left him wanting more. Wanting to feel that hard length thrust inside him. Except that wasn't what Roger had asked for, was it? 

Their lips found each other again, muffling soft noises of pleasure as they continued to move against each other in an easy rhythm. 

_'You wanna fuck me?'_

Truthfully, given the choice, Freddie would have taken getting fucked over fucking someone any day. And it wasn't as simple as plain physical enjoyment of one act over the other. 

Being on the receiving end meant surrendering control. Surrendering responsibility and losing himself in the moment completely. There was no pressure to _not disappoint_ then - an underlying anxiety which was so reminiscent of many a sexual encounter he'd had with the opposite sex. He wasn't required to _think_ when it was he who was giving himself, wasn't required to make decisions. 

There was a thrilling sense of helplessness and submission in being taken which he enjoyed greatly, too.

And for once, at least there, in the throes of pleasure, Freddie was _enough_. By virtue of his existence alone. 

However, that didn't mean he never experienced the primal desire to claim the man he loved in kind. Especially knowing that he was the only one who'd ever had that pleasure. It was a rush, hearing Roger ask for him in that way. Knowing he'd been thinking about it, _wanting_ it. 

They broke apart for a moment, gazing into each other's eyes, pupils blown wide. 

"I mean, if you want, of course…" Roger murmured, attempting a faux-innocent lilt. 

"Oh, I _want_." Freddie replied emphatically and kissed him again, as lovingly and obscenely as he could at the same time. All long licks and lips barely touching. 

It was a wonderful thing, the mutual adoration and trust between them. Because it left little room for anxieties. And it was a bit impressive how, even on his back, _asking_ to be fucked, Roger could still appear to be effortlessly in control. He twisted some of Freddie's hair around his hand, pulling until Freddie lifted his head, locking eyes with him. 

"I've an idea." Roger's lips curled into a smirk that was dirty through and through. He lay a hand on Freddie's jaw, running his thumb over the evening stubble there. "I think you're gonna like it." 

Before Freddie had a chance to inquire just what that idea was, Roger had slid an arm around his waist and rolled them over. The sheets were cold beneath Freddie's back, but that was not what made him shiver. He knew the look in the other man's eyes well and adored it with every fibre of his being. It was a mixture of intrigue and delight, anticipation and desire, focused into singular, unwavering attention directed at him. Freddie felt mesmerised by it, pinned to the spot like a butterfly in a frame. It was that very look which - Freddie knew and could understand all too well - made many a girl's knees weak before Roger so much as laid a hand on them. 

"What's- what's the idea?" Freddie breathed, his voice barely there. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth, gazing up at Roger through his lashes, and something softened in the other man's gaze. 

Roger smiled, eyes tracing the lines of Freddie's face. "Christ, you're gorgeous." 

There was an unguarded, raw quality to Roger's voice that made Freddie's heart give a little leap. He broke into an answering smile, tilting his chin up to meet Roger's lips as he leaned down for a brief kiss. 

When he pulled away, the naughty smirk was back. Roger pushed himself up a little and leaned over to the bedside table, reaching for the butt plug. Freddie followed it with his eyes. 

Roger held it up between them, contemplating it for a second or two. 

"I was thinking…" he mused, and brought it down to Freddie's chest, rubbing the rounded tip of it over a nipple. Freddie squirmed, arching his back a little, and Roger lowered his head, lips all but brushing against his ear when he spoke. "You could fuck me… with this inside you. See what that feels like."

An involuntary whimper escaped Freddie's throat and his cock jolted against Roger's hip, even as he turned his head to face him. 

"What do you think?" Roger grinned. 

"Oh… _fuck_ , yes," was as eloquent a response as Freddie could manage, given that Roger was a bloody genius. 

"Knew you'd like that." 

And a smug bastard, which Freddie found hard to begrudge him when the very tone of his voice made his insides prickle with heat. The enticing pull of Roger's lips drew him back in and Freddie slotted their mouths together with a soft moan, rolling onto his side as he slid his arms around the other man. Roger dropped the toy onto the bed behind Freddie's back and embraced him in return, licking deep into his mouth. His hands slid down to Freddie's arse, pulling his cheeks apart a little and fanning his fingers out along the dip between them. 

"And the cock ring?" Freddie asked in murmur as they came up for air, breathing hard against each other's lips. One would think he would have been used to it by now, talking about these things, saying the actual words. (Although that particular toy was a very recent acquisition. Their last day of tour before Christmas, in Barcelona, had been very eventful. Freddie was never going to get those Sangria stains out of his favourite scarf.) Still, speaking of these things aloud was always accompanied by a tightness in his chest and a shiver running through him. The thrill of something so unspeakable in polite company that it seemed forbidden, it left a bottomless feeling in the pit of his stomach that was half embarrassment and half excitement. 

"You." Roger replied before he stole another kiss, waggling his eyebrows. "Wouldn't want the fun to end too soon."

"Mmh." Freddie swallowed and brushed their lips together, his voice husky. "I get all the treats." 

Roger bit his bottom lip through a smile as he slipped one hand between their bodies, running his fingers up the entire length of Freddie's cock. 

"I get all of _this_..." 

Freddie exhaled sharply, hips jerking forward of their own accord. Well, there was no way that cock ring was going on right this minute, seeing as he was currently very much as hard as he could be.

"Hands and knees." The words didn't quite sink in, because Roger's hand was pulling away from him and everything inside him protested. Freddie instinctively reached for him with a small sound of complaint. _Don't let me go_. Roger chuckled, catching Freddie's hand in his and pressing it to his lips. "Hands and knees, Freddie," he repeated gently. This time, Freddie heard him and complied, unsteady on the very knees he was lifting himself up on as it dawned on him that Roger was going to make sure he'd have the plug inside him the entire time. Wedged right against his sweet spot all the while as he prepared him in turn. Oh, sweet torture... 

Freddie licked his lips, gazing down at the pillow through his lashes, his hair falling around his face in slightly damp strands as he listened to the telltale sounds of a bottle being opened and Roger shifting behind him. A warm hand came down on his lower back, its leisurely caresses sending small shivers up his spine, before it slid down to one of his cheeks, kneading the muscle. Roger stroked his fingers along the dip of his crack and exposed his hole further and Freddie's eyes fell shut, his entire focus on the excruciatingly arousing vulnerability of his position and the other man's touch. Just when he expected Roger's fingers, it was his boyfriend's hot tongue he felt instead, lapping against the tight ring of muscle. Freddie gasped and jolted slightly at the sensation. A small whimper escaped him and his fingers tightened on the sheets as that skillful tongue circled and teased. He silently vowed to get his own back later, biting back a smirk with his lips pressed together tightly. 

After a short while, Roger placed a kiss just above his tailbone, the sensation so light it tickled pleasantly. Freddie could feel his hot breath on his skin. 

"Couldn't resist." Roger's voice was a little high-pitched and breathy, but so gravelly all the same. Freddie's insides were a burning pool of need. That same moment slick fingers pressed against his hole, spreading a copious amount of lube as they massaged his entrance. Freddie could feel a droplet trickle down his balls when he arched his back, pushing himself back into the touch impatiently. 

With a grunt of approval, Roger obliged, slipping the tip of a finger inside him. He waited for Freddie to relax around it before he went deeper, slowly pumping it in and out of him. Taking his time. 

"I could just make you take it," Roger told him quietly, his tone almost casual if it hadn't been for the slight rasp, "stretch you right open. You could take it, couldn't you. Fuck, you'd probably love it." He worked a second finger in and Freddie let out a choked off whine in response, the stretch not painful in the least but the feeling of pressure heavenly. Of course, Roger wasn't wrong. They both knew how much he liked it rough, but this- God, Freddie was perfectly happy to stay right here for as long as it pleased Roger. 

"Is that what you get up to by yourself?" Roger's fingers pushed deeper and separated a bit every time he pulled them out, and that did burn a little, but wonderfully so.

"Yes," Freddie moaned, not sure if he was answering the question - what had been the question? - or simply approving of proceedings. 

"Bet you do. Bet you love to make it hurt." 

"Sometimes," Freddie moaned, eyes squeezed shut and cheeks burning hot. Not rocking his hips with the movement was impossible, the whimpers coming over his lips in a steady stream now. " _Fuck-_ " 

Roger had hooked his fingers just behind the rim and circled them, pulling slightly. Then he twisted another finger inside, at last deliberately dragging his fingertips over Freddie's prostate, drawing a high-pitched moan from him. He pushed in deeper still, repeating the movement in a steady rhythm, and Freddie collapsed onto his elbows. 

"Fuck, baby," Roger sounded vaguely in awe, "I love how much you love this. Fuck… look at you…"

Freddie had stilled, toes curling, momentarily paralysed by that breathtaking fullness. He couldn't tell how many fingers Roger had inside him now, but it was a lot and it burned, just on the edge of too much, simultaneously driving him out of his mind with how fucking amazing it felt every time those fingers dug straight into the spot that made Freddie’s insides draw together so tightly it hurt. He never wanted it to stop. Roger twisted his fingers into him a little faster and Freddie sobbed, the pressure almost unbearable. 

"Jesus, Freddie, that's almost my whole fucking hand."

The choked up sound Freddie made in response seemed to snap him out of his amazement and Roger pulled back a little, stroking his thumb along the stretched rim of Freddie's hole, his fingers still inside him, rhythmically fluttering against his sweet spot. 

"You alright?" Roger asked gently and all Freddie could do was nod. 'Alright' was a laughable understatement. He was utterly undone and trembling with the breathtaking delight of being so close but not. There. That torturous plateau of pleasure. 

"So good, baby," Roger murmured against his skin and kissed his hip, running his other hand up and down his thigh. "So good for me." 

He withdrew his fingers and Freddie felt his muscles contract around empty air, the feeling of loss so sudden he was ready to cry out for more. _Please, God-_

But the next moment, he could feel the cool, smooth rubber of the plug press up against him. Freddie instinctively rocked his hips back and it slid into place with ease. Roger pulled just a little and then pushed it in deeper, right there where it felt so good.

"Nghhyeah…" 

Roger did it again, and again, toying with him. Freddie was a trembling mess, chewing his lips and rocking his hips back and forth. And then Roger stopped, one hand stroking Freddie's hip. Leaving him clenching around the toy in vain to try and increase the pressure. Alas, to no avail. 

Freddie sobbed, even as Roger kissed a trail up along the side of his body. "I got a bit carried away there," he smirked, nuzzling against Freddie's shoulder. 

"I fucking hate you," Freddie uttered through his teeth, knowing he could reached down and get himself off in a matter of seconds with a few tight pumps. Except he couldn’t, because he wasn't going to get to come anytime soon. 

"You love me," Roger preened, dropping down onto the bed beside him. Freddie turned his head to look at him through the strands of hair obscuring his vision and raked his teeth over his bottom lip as he moved in on him with a slow crawl, positioning himself over Roger, voice unsteady but determined. 

“I’m going to ravish you, my dear.”

“Oh _yes_.” Roger raised a hand to the side of Freddie’s face, threading his fingers into his hair as Freddie lowered himself down and dove into his neck, sucking on a patch of tender skin. Hard enough to make Roger draw in a sharp breath through his teeth. Hard enough to leave behind a beautiful pattern of reddish purple hues when he moved on to the shell of Roger’s ear, lewdly tracing the contours of it with the tip of his tongue. The other man squirmed beneath him and moaned his approval, fingers digging into Freddie’s back. 

“Freddie.”

There were few sounds more delightful than Roger whispering his name longingly. Freddie gave a hum of acknowledgement, dragging his lips back down along Roger’s neck to his clavicle. And lower.

“Can you...” Roger trailed off when Freddie ran the flat of his tongue over one of his nipples and then sucked it into his mouth, fingers honing in on the other. It never failed to amuse him that while Roger claimed his nipples just weren’t all that sensitive, Freddie had come to the conclusion that they were, in fact, perhaps a little _too_ sensitive. Roger never let him carry on long enough to ease him into it. One of these days, he thought wistfully, and pinched the puckered nub between his fingers. “Ah, shit-” Roger gasped and tugged at his hair, hard. “Freddie-”

Lifting his head with a whine that was half complaint and half arousal, Freddie looked up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, rasping out the words. “You were saying?”

Roger gazed down at him and wet his lips, releasing his vice grip. “Can you suck my cock for a bit?”

“So polite,” Freddie teased, flashing a small, toothy grin, “when you're about to get fucked.”

He was quite proud of himself for how smoothly that had come out. Roger was better with words, especially in these situations.

"Cheeky." The drummer smirked back at him, lightly thrusting his hips up against Freddie's stomach. To think Freddie could have possibly forgotten about the hard length pressed up against him. “Put that mouth to good use.”

As if Freddie had needed an invitation to do just that. He continued to slither down along Roger’s body, leaving a trail of kisses and the wet marks of his tongue across the other man's abdomen. 

“Lube?” he murmured, lifting his head back up briefly.

It was all but thrust into his face once Roger had located it next to them and Freddie put it down between Roger’s legs for the moment, unhurriedly kissing his way over the rise of Roger’s hip bone. His cock was right there beside Freddie's face, twitching invitingly the closer he got. A wet droplet glistening at the tip. Roger's hand landed on top of his head, urging him towards it.

“Please… Freddie-”

In all honesty, Freddie was just as keen, but knowing how much Roger wanted it just made him want to draw it out more.

“No,” Freddie whispered against the crook of Roger’s thigh, “you’ll wait.”

All he received in response was a mixture between a growl and a moan, followed by a shuddering gasp when his lips made their way down to Roger’s balls, sucking one of them into his mouth. Meanwhile, Freddie lay a hand on each of Roger’s thighs, guiding them up towards his body. Taking the hint, Roger put a hand on each knee, holding his legs up while Freddie moved lower still. It was sweet revenge. The sweetest, Freddie thought, when he heard the breathless sound his tongue elicited as he dipped it between Roger’s cheeks. Something between a whimper and a chuckle. Roger was always a little ticklish at first - until he wasn't. Shifting lower on the bed on his stomach, mostly so he could rub his cock against the sheets, Freddie flicked his tongue over the twitching ring of muscle a few times to get him used to the sensation. It was impossible to _disregard_ the pressure inside him, keeping him tense with arousal, but nevertheless his focus momentarily shifted to the series of soft moans coming from above when he went slower and firmer, twisting his tongue in tight circles. Before he licked his way deeper, feeling Roger gradually relax for him, and thrust the tip inside just a little. 

"Ahh, Jesus…"

\- - - 

There was nothing dignified about his current position. He was utterly exposed and at Freddie's mercy, ashamed to imagine what he must look like. 

And it was stupidly hot. 

Holding his legs up made it impossible to touch himself, and as a result that was all Roger could think about because Freddie’s tongue was _doing things_ to him, and Roger wanted him to keep doing exactly that while he stroked himself to completion. Except he also wanted to get off with his dick in Freddie’s mouth. And then again, he also wanted Freddie inside him, pushing him to the brink of what he thought he could take.

In all honesty, it hadn’t taken Roger a very long time to become curious. A certain sense of not wanting to miss out, no matter the nature of the experience, had always resided within him. It was no wonder then, that but a few months after Roger had begun to explore all the exciting things he could do to Freddie, he’d soon begun to wonder if much of it wouldn’t be just as pleasurable in reverse. Although it had taken him uncharacteristically long to bring it up. And he knew why, even though he didn't like to think about it. Some prejudices and convictions, imparted and reinforced since childhood, were hard to shake. 

But to hell with all of that. There was little Roger felt more strongly about than challenging the norm, so if he wanted to find out if he liked getting fucked as much as Freddie did he was bloody well going to do just that. 

As it turned out, it was an experience and a half, not comparable to anything else he had ever done in bed. Bloody intense, too. It required him to be in the right mood, the right headspace, and that wasn't very often. But it wasn't as though Freddie ever pushed for it, either. They were both very happy with their regular routine, and so nights like tonight were just the icing on the cake. 

And Freddie was taking his time, mercilessly teasing. Pulling back for just a moment to circle his spit-slicked hole with his thumb, just short of pushing inside, before his tongue returned again, drawing embarrassingly needy sounds from him. Making him tremble with the unbearable anticipation of it. Until the tip of his thumb finally pressed inside. 

"Oh fuck," Roger moaned, soon followed by a desperately high-pitched, "yes, please-" when Freddie moved up to his dick, sucking the head into his mouth while he slipped his thumb in deeper. "Oh _fuck_ -" 

Freddie bobbed his head up and down on his dick slowly, taking him deep, to the very back of his throat, and _hummed_. Roger must have made a particularly wanton sound, because Freddie pulled off with a breathy, self-satisfied chuckle and pulled his hand away. However, Roger barely had a chance to blink his eyes open or catch his breath before that hot mouth returned, tongue swirling around the head of his cock. Freddie's fingers returned, slick and a little cool from the lube, circling his hole. Twisting in so easily the sudden sensation of fullness made him gasp. Freddie lifted his head momentarily, idly stroking the shaft of Roger's cock with his other hand. 

"Alright?"

Roger nodded shakily, his mouth dry. "Yeah, yeah… ahh…" Freddie's long fingers thrust into him again, slow and deep, at an angle that sent a shock of agonisingly intense pleasure through him. Combined with the wet heat of Freddie's mouth on him it was all but paralysing, stealing his breath away and making sparks explode behind his lids. 

"Ohmyghnn- Jesus _fuck_ , Freddie-" Roger was trying to find his voice to point out that they weren't going to get any further if Freddie carried on like that for much longer. Although he wasn’t so sure he could bring himself to care just now and couldn’t help a disappointed groan when Freddie released his cock with a wet plop, pulling himself up towards his chest. Roger instinctively turned a little until they were facing each other, lying on their sides, his leg high up on Freddie’s hip and his arms around him. He tilted his head down and Freddie lifted his chin up, bringing them nose to nose, breathing hard against each other’s lips and gazing into each other’s eyes. Roger was all out of witticisms and dirty banter, the moment excruciatingly intimate, making his heart beat high up in his throat, a soaring sensation in the pit of his stomach. They leaned into each other, lips colliding in a passionate kiss. Freddie couldn’t reach as far from his current angle, but that was alright, because he focused on increasing the stretch instead little by little. Scissoring his fingers and working in what must be a third, Roger figured, his hand tightening on Freddie’s waist. It was pleasurable on an entirely different level. A mild burn verging on pain, the anticipation of what was to come. What it would feel like.

Which reminded him. 

Roger slid his hand further down, digging his fingertips into the soft skin of Freddie’s arse as he broke the kiss. "You good?”

Freddie drew back just enough to look at him, lifting an eyebrow. A smirk flitted across his face as he withdrew his fingers, resting his palm against Roger’s balls, eyes twinkling and a flash of teeth. “I’m bloody marvellous, dear. And yourself?”

“Yeah,” Roger gave a small, jerky nod and licked his lips. “Let’s fucking do this.”

With a throaty giggle, Freddie rolled them over, landing himself half on top of Roger, his hair hanging down around their faces. 

“Your wish is my command.” He sounded a bit breathless as he said it, and leaned down, pressing his lips against Roger’s for a fleeting kiss. Roger turned his head to look when Freddie reached over to the bedside table. 

“Eh, don’t worry,” he started, having entirely forgotten all about his initial idea with cock ring somewhere between very nearly fitting his entire hand inside his boyfriend and the last ten minutes or so.

But Freddie had already picked it up. “No, I want to.” He reached for the bottle of lube, glancing at Roger with a small smile. “I’ll come in ten seconds flat otherwise, darling.”

Roger grinned back, biting his lower lip, and lifted himself up on his elbows, eyes trailing down Freddie’s body to his cock as he coated himself in lube before trying to slide the ring into place carefully. The endeavour was somewhat hindered by the fact that he was quickly getting rock hard again the moment he’d laid a hand on himself.

“Fuck.”

“Think about football,” Roger suggested helpfully.

Freddie shot him a tetchy look. “I’d like to see _you_ think about football,” he uttered breathlessly, “with something the size of a large radish up your arse. I’m sorry!” he added immediately when Roger howled with laughter. “But it’s fucking true!”

On the upside, Freddie had actually managed to get the cock ring all the way down, where it glistened, a polished silver, against flushed flesh. On the downside, they had both dissolved into fits of hysterics now. 

“God- come here, you,” Roger wheezed and reached for Freddie, pulling him back down on top of himself, silencing his giggles with a few kisses. Freddie sighed against his lips and kissed him back deeper, grinding his cock against Roger’s. Everything was so slippery it felt divine and Roger moaned into the kiss, rocking his hips up to meet Freddie’s, enjoying it for another moment or two, until Freddie drew back and met his eyes. Before the dark-haired man could voice any questions, Roger pulled his legs up around him, sliding one hand between them to guide Freddie towards his entrance.

Lips pressed together tightly with concentration, Freddie reached down as well to steady his cock before he slowly pushed forward. Roger’s eyes fell shut and his mouth fell open as he tried to bear down into the stretch. Jesus, it was so fucking overwhelming, Freddie was- He was being impossibly careful but there was just so much of him to take. And then Freddie pushed inside a bit more and Roger realised he’d barely even started.

“Wait,” he murmured, frowning at the sheer, intense pressure, trying to coax his muscles into relaxing. “Okay- oh _fuck_ -” Roger’s voice seemed to have leapt up by half an octave when Freddie thrust almost all the way in the moment he gave him the go-ahead.

“Sorry.” Freddie’s head dropped down onto Roger’s shoulder, his breathing ragged. “Feels so good. Oh God, Rog- oh God-”

“‘s’okay,” Roger managed to utter, his voice hoarse. Threading his fingers into Freddie’s hair, he blinked his eyes open when Freddie lifted his head. His gaze misted over with desperate desire and his jaw slack. Roger brought their lips together, simultaneously wrapping his legs around Freddie tighter, pulling him in. Any discomfort was entirely alleviated by just how turned on he was, hearing Freddie’s choked off moan, _feeling_ it too against his lips, as he buried himself inside him balls-deep. Then he rolled his hips, and the second thrust drew an answering moan from Roger, muffled by Freddie’s mouth. On the third thrust Freddie snapped his hips into him and took his breath away entirely as he fell into an urgent, sharp rhythm. Kissing became impossible for sheer lack of air and Roger let his head drop back, Freddie’s face in the crook of his neck, both of them moaning broken strings of words. Filthy curses and _oh God, oh_ and _yes_.

All Roger could do was cling on to Freddie for dear life, wondering how he could forget, every time, just how utterly, indescribably overwhelming this felt. 

\- - - 

Absolutely nothing was going to prevent him from coming so hard he might black out, Freddie realised, eyes screwed shut and moaning against Roger’s shoulder, his forehead pressed into the side of Roger’s neck. Sweat on sweat, hands seeking purchase all over each other’s bodies. The impossibly tight heat of Roger’s body alone was pure bliss, but with every thrust, he couldn’t help but clench around the plug. The doubled assault on his senses was driving him to the edge of sanity. All the cock ring was doing was drawing it out, which in itself was another agonisingly sweet torture. Good God, he was going to fall apart into a million pieces.

“I can’t-” It came out almost a sob, his hands around Roger’s shoulders, clinging on tighter while he drove his hips down harder and faster. The sounds Roger made could have been pain as easily as pleasure, but the nails digging into Freddie’s back told him it was the latter.

“Fuck, Freddie-”

“’m close, ah- so close-”

“Yeah, come on.”

“Rog-”

“Come on, baby.” Fingers tightened around a fistful of Freddie's hair, so tightly it bordered on painful. “Wanna feel you come.”

“ _Oh fuck_ -”

Freddie was faintly aware of how loud he was as he tumbled over the edge. He may have spared a thought for the neighbouring hotel rooms if there had been anything left of his mind except for a white haze of pleasure. It swallowed him up entirely for a few blissful, blessed moments and his hips stuttered, shocks of ecstasy shooting through him. 

The world, miraculously enough, was still in existence and unchanged when he opened his eyes, short of breath and bathed in sweat. His cock twitched with the aftershocks, as did the muscles holding the plug in place, which suddenly felt bigger and harder inside him. Meanwhile, the cock ring ensured he was still achingly hard, both toys prolonging the thrum of arousal, refusing to release him from its divine grasp completely. He whimpered helplessly, peering down at Roger’s heaving chest. 

_Roger._

“You alright,” his boyfriend asked in an unsteady murmur, one hand stroking up and down his back. Instead of a reply, Freddie lifted himself up slightly on one elbow and lowered his other hand between them, wrapping his fingers around Roger's neglected cock.

"Are you?" he breathed, feeling him grow fully hard again in his hand with a few firm strokes. 

"Yea-ahh-" 

Roger turned his head towards him just as Freddie rolled his hips slowly and they moaned in unison, breath hot against each other's lips. They rocked against each other like this for a brief while and when Roger clenched around Freddie's over-sensitive cock, Freddie almost crawled out of his skin, an involuntary whine escaping his throat. He felt _raw_ and like he was balancing on a knife's edge between too much and not ever wanting to come down from this high. He wanted- He needed- He couldn't- 

A thought flashed through Freddie's mind, eliciting a shudder. 

"Stay," was all he managed to say. It came out sounding a little commanding and he couldn't help a small smile at the way Roger's eyebrows rose up. Freddie leaned down and pressed a kiss to his shoulder before he carefully pulled out, lifting himself up onto his hands and knees. His eyes caught on Roger's face, tinted pink with a flush that extended all the way down to his chest. Eyes heavy-lidded and a small frown on his brow, his hair fanned out like halo around his head and sweat glistened on his temples just above the short sideburns. 

"You look like sin." The words had welled up inside him and tumbled over his lips before Freddie could think twice about it, his tone almost reverent. Roger's lips curled into a saucy, smug smile as he peered at him from beneath long lashes. 

"Lucky you love being bad," he rasped, reaching down to stroke himself leisurely as his gaze travelled up and down Freddie's body. "Christ," he chuckled, "that thing makes you look fucking huge." 

Glancing down at himself, Freddie had to admit that Roger wasn't wrong. "I suit jewellery," he quipped coquettishly, and decided the cock ring could stay where it was for now. It wasn't uncomfortably tight, if anything perhaps not tight enough, bought on a whim as it had been. But while he wasn't sure how much it really did for him in terms of slowing things down, it did make everything a bit more intense, which was lovely.  
Instead, he went to dislodge the butt plug and whimpered at the feeling of emptiness. 

"I can just…" Roger started, chest rising and falling rapidly as he stroked himself faster. 

"Shush," Freddie hushed him and moved back up to straddle his hips. 

"Oh…." Realisation dawned on Roger's face and of his hands flew up to Freddie's hip, the other steadying his cock. "Aw, _fuck_ yes-" 

Freddie's delighted chuckle turned into a moan when he lowered himself down all the way slowly, shuddering at how thick Roger's cock felt inside him. 

"Ahhh…" He let his head fall back and his eyes fall shut, bracing himself with his hands on Roger's chest. 

"Nghh, God, you're so-" Roger cut himself off with a moan and gripped Freddie's hips tightly, thrusting up into him. Freddie gave a high-pitched whine and Roger did it again, faster and harder, quickly falling into a relentless rhythm. 

"Stop, stop-" Freddie's nails scraped over Roger's chest as he balled his hands into fists, eyes screwed shut. Fuck, it _hurt_. Not the stretch, not that at all, but the way Roger's cock dug into that most sensitive spot inside him with every thrust. And then it tipped right over into a deep pain-pleasure radiating through his entire abdomen, so intense tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. 

"Alright?" Roger had stilled, a note of concern in his voice. 

"Don't. Move." Freddie's breath came in irregular gasps and he sat up straighter, the fingers of one hand splayed out on Roger's stomach. The other had found his own wet cock, just squeezing the tip in his fist as he rocked back and forth slowly, finding that perfect angle and rhythm. The perfect amount of pressure. "Oh fuck, right there, oh my- oh my _God_ -" 

He wasn't sure if he was still hard or hard _again_. He wasn't sure of anything anymore outside of the fact that he wanted it so bad. That peak of pleasure, almost close enough again that he could taste it and glorious in its promise, his whole body buzzing with the need to reach it. 

"Oh fuck," he sobbed, working his hand over his cock faster now as he leaned back a bit, bracing himself on Roger's thigh instead. When he blinked his eyes open, he found Roger gazing at him open-mouthed, his eyes dark as night and his breathing ragged. They moaned in unison as Freddie ground down into the pressure against his prostate harder and continued to rock and circle his hips. The movements minute but the feeling so intense it left him shaking. 

\- - - 

Freddie was going to be the death of him and frankly, Roger couldn't bring himself to care. Because Freddie was busy getting himself off for the second time on his aching dick, moaning obscenely and winding his body around in ways that had him seeing stars.

"That feel good, baby?" Roger was surprised his tongue still obeyed him at all because he was so fucking close, had been so unbearably close for what felt like _ages_ , just a handful of quick, hard thrusts away-

"Yeah," Freddie whined, clenching down on him, and Roger couldn't help but buck his hips with a desperate moan, throwing the other man off his rhythm. 

"I said _don't_ -" Freddie all but glared at him, which was impressive given how utterly ruined he looked.

"Sorry," Roger panted. 

"Or you won't be coming _at all_ tonight," Freddie murmured in a voice like poisoned honey. 

"Fuck-" 

Roger was going to cry. And come his brains out the moment Freddie decided to move just a bit faster, Jesus fucking Christ, _please_ -

It was a minute at most but it felt like unbearable eternity, leaving him clutching at the sheets barely able to breathe, before his prayers were answered. Freddie increased the pace, tossing himself off urgently and quickly. "Yeah, fuck, come on, give it to me," he growled between a continuous stream of breathless moans, "fuck me-" And Roger wasn't going to be told twice. Fingers digging into Freddie's hips hard enough to bruise, he held him right where he needed him and drove himself into him fast, not relenting when Freddie's muscles spasmed around him and he keened, spilling over his hand and Roger's stomach. Because only moments later, his own orgasm hit him like a flood wave of bliss and pulled him under. 

_Holy fucking s h i t-_

His entire body was still tingling, all the way down to his toes, when he resurfaced in reality, struggling to breathe. The latter was made more difficult by Freddie, who was a dead weight on top of him, plastered to his chest. Roger grunted and raised a heavy hand, running his fingers over Freddie's sweaty shoulder. 

"No," Freddie mumbled in a gravelly voice, "don't bother. I'm dead." Roger snorted quietly, breaking into a grin. "You've _killed_ me." 

"I… what… me?" Roger hadn't regained the ability to form sentences yet. 

With a groan of impossible effort, Freddie lifted himself up and climbed off, collapsing into a heap next to him. Roger wrapped an arm around him and Freddie curled up against his side, head resting on his shoulder. 

"That was some," Roger started, finally managing to get his tongue to obey, although it brain was still mush, "some tantric shit at the end there, or something."

Freddie burst out laughing so hard he snorted in a very undignified manner, which only made him giggle more.

"No?" Roger chortled.

"Well," Freddie waved a hand, "maybe, just… nevermind," he sighed, the laughter petering out. "Ahh, goodness me."

"Tell me about it," Roger agreed. 

They lay in silence for a little while, very much in need of another bath, Roger thought with a hint of amusement and disgust alike. In a minute… neither of them was quite prepared to move just yet. He absently noted that their breathing had synchronised just as Freddie spoke up again. 

"Straight sex," he started, making Roger turn his head towards him, intrigued at the direction this was going, " _cannot_ be this good." Freddie looked truly, comically unsettled by the thought. "I don't see _how_ -" 

"Well…" Roger cackled quietly and long fingers landed on his lips before he could say any more, silencing him. 

"Don't answer that." Freddie murmured with an abashed grin and snuggled into the crook of his neck. 

"Can ah shay shomeshing elsh?" Roger mumbled through Freddie's fingers, and the other man pulled them away with a giggle. 

"You may."

"It just keeps getting better," Roger told him softly, brushing his lips against the top of Freddie's head.

"What?"

"This." Roger found Freddie's hand on top of his chest and took it in his, holding it against his heart. "Everything, with you."

For a long moment, Freddie was quiet. When he finally spoke his voice sounded a little thick. "Yes." He swallowed. "Yes, it does."

And Roger hugged him a little tighter. 

\- - -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! ❤️

**Author's Note:**

> 💕


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